Cerebral Act
by CircadianDance
Summary: Each morning, they would wake, eyes clouded over as they slipped into the skins they would wear. It was a show, they were the dancers, and the world was their audience. [Team Seven centric, introspective]


**A/N: **Since my lack of updating, 'cause ff dot net grounded me for using chat format in CS, I'm updating all my others, and posting a bunch of one-shots before removing the prologue of CS and reposting it. Hopefully this will tide you over. Since I'm going over some revisions on the story as well. Introspective for Team Seven time.

**Disclaimer:** These are kinda pointless, you already know I don't own Naruto… -.-

**.x.X.x. Cerebral Act .x.X.x.**

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Leaves fall. Grass grows. Water moves. Time slips. Uchiha Sasuke broods and plots. Uzumaki Naruto smiles and grins. Haruno Sakura worries and fusses. Hatake Kakashi is late and nonchalant.

Some things never change and shouldn't be expected to. They're the things that canbe depended upon for a sense of _normalcy_. If certain things started to change, then what can anyone depend on?

If Uchiha Sasuke stopped plotting the vengeance of his clan, _would the leaves stop falling_?

If anyone cared enough to notice that the bright grin Uzumaki Naruto wore everyday was a façade to hide his wounds and scars, _would the grass stop growing_?

If someone heard the harsh words and criticisms Haruno Sakura had to deal with each morning and night, and made everything okay for her, _would the water stop moving_?

If Hatake Kakashi was no longer afraid of letting someone in, and they saw how he cries over the lives he steals each night and the stories that end, _would time stop slipping_?

Team Seven is a unit where the members all coexist with each other. They've become balanced. They know exactly what the strength and weaknesses of their partners are, only when they're on the battlefield, and they know how to carry out a mission quickly and efficiently, yet talking to each other about anything else is difficult.

They've become perfect at stealth, assassination, and retrieval. Even more so masters at hiding their emotions, masking their pain and covering their thoughts.

But.. they were masters at those all along, weren't they?

Each morning, they would wake, eyes clouded over as they slipped into the skins they would wear. It was a _show_, they were the _dancers_, and the world was their _audience_.

They played their parts well, each going to the beat of the drum expertly, never slipping, never missing a step. In time with the rhythm, and in tune with the song.

They never faltered, never wavered. They played the script they were expected to. They pleased the ones who they were supposed to, killed the ones the were ordered to. It was a dizzying cycle, but they repeated it each antagonizing day.

There was on one to complain to. No one to share their worries and concerns with. Time passed too quickly, and if any of them tried to grab it, it slipped through their fingers even faster, sickly mocking them as things changed, more often for the worse than for the better.

They were trapped. Stuck. Snared in the lies they had went along with their whole lives.

Uchiha Sasuke continued to _obsess over the death of his parents_.

Uzumaki Naruto continued to _act like it didn't bother him that he didn't have any_.

Haruno Sakura continued to _pretend like her's cared_.

Laughter, grins, small smiles, touches, kind words, frowns, choked down sobs, insults, hits, bites, punches, kicks. No matter what they went through, they never really got close. They were too scared to show their backs and real selves to anyone, even each other.

Not that it mattered. You didn't have to know each other to perform tasks someone sets for you.

When it's all over and done with, when their stories are over, and their books closed, and burned, and no one remembers the words, what's left?

The fabled Uchiha clan story about the avenger who died at age seventeen, after giving into evil, killing his brother, and dying in the process?

The remains of worn red spray paint over the faces of the old Hokages, and a day of celebrating to honor the death of the fabled Kyuubi no Kitsune?

The teachings of superior chakra control that some girl developed years ago?

No one will remember their names, or faces. All they have is now, as much as they bitterly refuse to acknowledge that. They believe they will be remembered for who they were.

But how can you be remember for who you were, if no one knows you? Not even yourself?

o w a r i

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A/N: I always like introspective fics, they're incredibly fun to write/read.

--cj


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